


That Was Yesterday

by blacktopanga



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktopanga/pseuds/blacktopanga
Summary: After leaving the Winchesters behind, Cassie Robinson sets out to live a life worth living--as a novelist. She writes a book series about two brothers who professionally pops ghosts. But what happens when the brothers who inspired the book pay her visit after what she writes starts to come true?(A/U in which Cassie is just clairvoyant not God)
Relationships: Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 2





	That Was Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> this is my v first fic (posted) after years and years of reading and writing to myself. pls don't hate me if it's bad. i haven't watched supernatural in years but cassie and dean's dynamic was always my favorite and i always hoped she would make another appearance. so here's that! enjoy! ;)

\--

“So you’re not going to say anything?” Sam called out to his brother, who rounded about his car towards the driver’s seat. Dean Winchester had thrown on his usual stoic mask as he glanced at his brother. He looked down at his shaking hands that only he could see as he fumbled with the keys. 

“And what would I say?” Dean replied, finding the key to open the car door, but not quite finding the strength to open the door just yet. He still felt her presence. He was still on her property. And he didn’t quite want to leave it yet. 

To leave her, quite yet. 

But Dean knew that in order to keep both parties from being hurt yet again, this was the way to go. It was honestly a much better goodbye than their last parting. Dean wanted Cassie to keep the image of him that was still good in her mind. Not tainted with him leaving to go and “pop” ghosts yet again. Sam snorted and shook his head. 

“Unbelievable.” Sam muttered under his breath. Dean clicked his tongue and rested his hands on the hood of his car and threw an annoyed glance toward him. “Something  _ you _ wanna say, man?” Dean pushed, unable to stop the emotions pooling at the seams of his tough guy demeanor. Sam chuckled sarcastically as his eyes landed on Dean. 

“You love her.” Dean sucked in a breath. “You should at least tell her.” Sam finished. Dean sniffed and used a hand to brush against his nose, he could’ve chuckled but he was afraid any sudden movements would give way to the way he was really feeling. All those feelings he’d bottled up and stored away. The feelings that seemed to pour out whenever Cassie was around. Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“Yeah, well. I loved her then too. And nothing happened. What’s so different now?” Dean implored, throwing a hand in the air. 

“The difference,” came a twinkling yet strong voice from behind Dean. Dean’s head whipped around to Cassie Robinson standing at a distance from him. She stood there, lavender top showing the slither of skin that rested above her low-cut jeans, hair slung in a messy bun atop her head, and duffel bag in hand, looking like an angel to Dean. She stepped forward slowly, the ghost of a smile on her lips. 

“-is that we both are willing to make things work if we want them... right?” Cassie affirmed, dropping her duffel bag at his feet. Dean’s eyes cut to the bag and to the light jacket she wore. She couldn’t be thinking about… considering… planning to….

“Cassie. What’re you saying?” Dean asked slowly, each word landing like molasses. The corners of her mouth quirked up and she closed the space between them. Dean sucked in a breath as her scent overcame him. 

“I’m saying that I’m coming with you..” She concluded. Dean shook his head. 

“No. No way. What I do--what  _ we _ do is much too dangerous. I won’t have your blood on my hands. I won’t-” 

“I’m a big girl, Dean. I can take care of myself. I can also do what I want. And what I want is to be with you. If you’ll let me.” Cassie said, reaching forward to grab one of Dean’s hands. 

“And if you don’t let me well I’ll just wallow in sadness for the rest of my life.” She joked. Sam smiled. 

And Dean didn’t know if her scent was laced with some kind of hypnotic properties or possibly a love spell that made his heart swell to a point he didn’t know it could or if it was because Dean was not particularly good at words so he simply leaned forward and captured her lips with his, a soft display of her power on him. And with this kiss he knew this…. was all he wanted to do in life. He wanted to kiss her. To lounge around with her. To hold her hand and go to the supermarket. To press a hand to her pregnant stomach with his child inside of her. To grow old and live with her until they were gray and senile. That was the life he wanted with her. 

But Dean could never have what he wanted, could he?

Dean pulled away and she softly gasped as his world began to crumble in front of him. He wanted to tell her yes. And because Dean was a selfish man, saying yes would’ve been so easy. For her, it lived on his tongue. How could he deny her? But the truth was that he didn’t know when, no  _ if _ , in his line of work, he’d ever get this chance to settle down. And he knew that isn’t the life he’d want for anyone, especially not Cassie. And he knew she couldn’t wait for him to come back. If he would come back. And Dean also knew they were both walls made of the same brick and together they pushed holes in each other’s guards, letting streaks of sunlight beam through. Which is why, Dean rested his forehead against hers and broke the rest of his heart, placing those broken bricks back in their place, shielding his heart from the light that is her.

“I’m sorry, Cassie.” He breathed. Cassie’s heart jolted, it struck a chord she didn’t know she had. She jutted backwards, to look at his crestfallen face with confusion. She had poured out her heart to him. She’d chosen him. She was willing to give up the life she’d carefully curated and put back together after he’d left her shattered and alone and confused. And this was him rejecting her. She had no words. 

Well, nice ones anyway. 

She cleared her throat and stepped backwards from him, leaving him in the ruins he’d created for himself. 

“Wow.” She whispered, more so to herself. She cast her eyes to the ground before flashing them back to Dean’s pained face. 

“I forgot you do that too.” She said, studying his features. Dean huffed and made his face a mask. 

“What.” He asked, but it seemed more like a statement coming from his grunted expression. 

“You punish yourself. For no reason.” Cassie added, her features softening. Dean’s heart was in his stomach. She was right and wrong. He had reasons. So many reasons.

Cassie could feel the back of her eyes burn with the threat of tears. She folded her arms over her chest, and stared intently at this man. This man she loved. This man who had rejected her far too many times despite him loving her. And she knew he loved her. Dean shifted his weight under her gaze and looked down at his shaking hands with his keys. Then he flashed his eyes to catch her intense stare, eyes glistening. 

“I’ll see you, Cassie.” Dean lamented, turning to walk towards the Impala. Cassie could feel each step he took in her gut. She couldn’t help it as a tear escaped her eye. She watched him walk away from her, yet again. Before he could open his car door, she called out his name, stepping forward. 

“Dean.” 

He paused, and cast another woeful, longing look at her. Cassie’s hands shook at her side and she knew that if she wanted to end this, she would have to end it completely. There could be no going back. For her or for him. He waited for her to finish, to say her goodbye. Because he owed her that. 

And with a shaky voice, Cassie spoke. 

“If you leave now without me... Don’t you ever come back.” She concluded, as her eyes welled with tears. She closed her eyes to blink away the tears unable to watch him retreat into his car.. Her shoulders shook with the sudden slam of the car door, and she could barely see through her tears as she watched the man she loved, drive away with her heart in the trunk of his Impala. 

It was a silent car ride. Sam had no words to give to Dean. Dean had no words to say. They pulled over after getting out of the city limits, to an old diner. Dean ordered a whiskey neat, then found out that they didn’t serve alcohol before 11:00 AM and then settled on black coffee. Sam ordered a full breakfast and carefully watched his brother.. Dean excused himself to go to the restroom. And in that restroom stall, he threw up the rest of his feelings into the toilet and flushed them. 

* * *

**~ 5 years later ~**

Cassandra Robinson, known to her friends and family, affectionately as Cass, had lived a long life. She was 25 when she’d met the love of her life. She was 27 when he’d left her for the 2nd time. She was 28 when she moved away from her hometown. And 29 when she became a published author. 29 and a half when she became a New York Times Bestseller. 30 when she’d met Tyler LaReaux. and 31 when she’d gotten engaged to him. 31 and a half when he called the engagement off. This isn’t an obituary, but it’s still a death and still very sad.

“I just don’t understand how I can know you for four years and still know absolutely nothing about you.” said Tyler, stuffing his belongings into an open duffel bag. He was calm and collected. Like he was leaving for a business trip and not in the middle of calling off his engagement. It aggravated Cassie to no end. No matter what happened, there was never any passion in his voice, in his life for that matter. 

Cassie huffed, and laughed. 

“Maybe because you didn’t try.” She responded, stalking out of their bedroom to go and sit at her desk, where her unfinished manuscript lay. He followed her with his bag on his shoulder. He watched her as she began typing furiously on her computer, adding new lines onto her newest book. He let out a sad laugh. 

“I did try, Cass. You were the one who didn’t try.” Tyler said, breaking what little spirit Cassie had left. She stopped typing but refused to turn around and watch yet another person walk out of her life.. She waited for the door to slam behind him, so she could cry about herself about how it was fucked up because he was right. And how she’d never find anyone to fill the gap in her life the way her writing did. No one like....

“You know… If you tried _half_ as much as you did with your book… things would be different.” 

The door closed behind him with a soft click. It triggered the ache in her heart to signal the tears that fell on her keyboard. He was right. 

And so she wrote.

\--

“So, you mean to tell me that Cassie is a clairvoyant who has been writing books about us and  _ that’s _ how Crowley has been keeping tabs on us?” Dean said, astonished that something like that could even take place. Sam nodded as they walked through the quiet bookstore, checking for a name. 

“Yep, that’s pretty much it.” Sam replied. Dean stepped in front of his brother, as Sam picked up a thick hardcover book. “How do you know it’s her?” He asked, solemnly. Sam held up the book. It was thick and titled, “ _ The Windsor Hunters, Book Three: Date With The Devil.” _ The book’s cover features two men, both concerning similar features to Sam and Dean. One held a stake and the other held a crossbow and arrow. Sam turned over the book and on the backpage, there she was. In full color, with that mona-lisa smile. Her brown mane of luscious curls were full and voluminous and much shorter than he’d ever seen.. Brown eyes piercing even on print. Dean took the book in his hands, his heart lurched at her name in the script-writing. 

Dean closed the book suddenly, unable to look at the photo anymore. He looked to Sam and cleared his throat. 

“So, what do we do now?” 

“Now, we pay Cassie a little visit. Get ready for spoilers.” 

\--

Cassie loved being a writer. The unstructured mornings, the lazy afternoons, the all-nighters when she finally got a great idea. It fit in perfectly with her life. She could move at her own pace. As long as her chapters were done by the deadline, although her publishers never seemed to mind if she were late. As she sat in front of her computer screen, unwritten lines mocking her with a rhythmic cursor, she munched on a gooey cinnamon roll she’d gotten from a bakery across from her apartment. She cleared her throat and brushed her hands together as she typed herself into the scene. 

The heros, Derek and Stephan Windsor and Cora Richards had just escaped yet another encounter with Lowery, the devil’s adjacent who’d been cursed to roam the Earth. And now the heroes needed help, and help fast. Cora, who was a newly found witch, still needed help controlling her powers to help the brothers find their father, who constantly seemed to slip out of their grasp--

As Cassie typed, her doorbell rang. 

Cassie tripped over her own feet to answer the door to none other than Sam and Dean Winchester, in the flesh. Cassie’s mouth fell open and she gritted her teeth at the face of Dean Winchester. She slammed her door shut, and put her back against it as if it would make them go away. 

“Cassie? It’s...well, you obviously know who it is. We just want to talk. It’s important.” Sam edged through the door's thick frame. Cassie snorted and shook her head. “I don’t care. Leave. _Now._ ” She seethed through the door. She couldn’t believe the nerve! Actually, she could. It was  _ Dean _ , for christ’s sake. Even when he says he’s done, she knows he’s lying. A part of her is happy he's come back for her, and the other part of her is angry that she's happy.

“Cassie. Please. You know I wouldn’t come if it wasn’t important.” came the grunted voice of Dean Winchester. Even his voice did something to her. It was like the feelings she’d thrown away, sprung to life with each syllable. Cassie had worked hard to construct a life for herself that didn’t include the pain and sorrow his love had scarred her with. She wasn’t ready for that to crumble. But she also couldn’t ignore the slight shake in his voice. The tremor in his voice that let her know, things were serious or bad. Possibly both. So, Cassie slowly opened her door and she gestured for the brothers to come in, avoiding eye contact with both. 

“Important, huh?” She folded her arms across her chest and watched the brothers fan out into her apartment. She kept her gaze on the taller Winchester, avoiding Dean completely. 

Sam held up the latest copy of her newly published book, and Cassie’s breath caught in her throat.  _ How did they know? _ Despite her sudden nervousness, she remained stoic. 

“Since when do you read?” She accused, standing her ground. Dean chuckled darkly. 

“Since when do you write supernatural fiction books?” Dean responded in a calculated tone. Cassie finally let her eyes fall to him. He looked the exact same. Every time. More frown lines.  _ When’s the last time he’s smiled? _

“Since when do you care?” She countered with a glare. If looks could kill, Sam would be an only child about now. To avoid this, Sam figured he’d better step in. 

“Look, we’re really sorry to bother you like this, Cassie-”

“So why are you bothering me? If this is about the book, you can’t sue me. It’s just how I cope. It’s all fiction and made up stories-” She began. Sam cut her off. 

“That’s the thing, Cassie. Everything you’ve written in these two books has come true to me and Dean.” Sam explained. Cassie furrowed a brow and folded her arms. 

“I don’t understand?” She confessed. Sam flipped through the pages. 

“All of these interactions, these stories. It’s all either happened before or has come true. I’m not sure what’s really going on but Cassie, I’m pretty sure you’re a Clairvoyant.” 


End file.
